


Atrium Boys

by wheel_pen



Series: Loose Gems [8]
Category: Original Work, Wolves of Kromer
Genre: F/M, Nicobar, Slavery, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An experienced slave tries to reassure a newcomer about the exotic compound where they live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atrium Boys

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things.   
> Inherent in slavery and other forms of subjugation are dubious consent, unhealthy relationships, and violence.  
> I hope you enjoy this original work, which was inspired by many different stories.
> 
> Visual reference:  
> Corin--James Layton  
> Alfie--Lee Williams  
> Hank--Tom Hanks

            Corin yawned and stretched his arms above his head, ruffling his dark curls on the way back down. There was no reason he should be tired, he decided, staring aimlessly at the TV that chattered away before him. He’d gotten plenty of sleep—eventually. It was because he’d done nothing all day, he supposed—start sluggish, finish sluggish. And he couldn't be sluggish with Briony if she called him tonight, so he had better do _something_ to get his energy back up.

            Idly he glanced around the spacious room. Other people cleaned it, so there wasn’t much he could straighten up. He wasn’t hungry, so there was no point to cooking something. And reading or watching a movie wouldn’t exactly get him off his rear end.

            That settled it. The only thing left was going for a walk. Reluctantly Corin stood, grabbed a fuzzy brown wool sweater from the back of the couch, and made sure his pager was in his back pocket before exiting through the doors that wooshed open softly when he neared them. Briony had gotten him a nice room, that was certain; it even exited into the hallway across from the entrance to the Atrium, as opposed to being near the Common Room or some other loud place.

            Corin was just about to enter the glass-walled Atrium when he heard a commotion around the corner. Suddenly a young man, slender with flyaway light brown hair, came skidding into view. He looked left, then right, then impulsively turned in Corin’s direction. “You’ve got to help me,” he begged breathlessly, clutching Corin’s arm. “I’ve got to get out of here!”

            “Steady on,” Corin told him calmly. The lad was very pretty up close, with bright blue-green eyes and delicate features. He had to be new—brand new. Which meant Corin knew exactly who he was running from. “Look, it’s no use trying to escape,” he advised the boy. “There’s no way out. None you’ll get to in time, anyway.”

            Of course the boy didn’t believe him; Corin wouldn’t have either, in his position. “There _has_ to be a way out,” he insisted desperately, staring wildly around the grey hallway.

            Corin shook his head. “No, look, everything is controlled by fingerprints,” Corin explained. He swiped a finger down a glowing blue panel near the Atrium entrance, and its door slid open softly. “You won’t get anywhere. It’s a wonder you got _this_ far.”

            Voices shouted down the hallway from where the boy had come, and he began to panic, trying to pull away from Corin. “Let me go,” he hissed. “Let me _try_ —“

            Corin looked at him, then glanced back at the empty hallway, thinking. “Go on,” he said, shoving the boy through the doorway to the Atrium. “Stay down.” Gratefully the boy obeyed, crouching behind some ferns, and let the door close between them.

            Alfie moment later, four men in suits charged around the corner, looking left and right, just as the boy had. Corin frowned at them and leaned casually against the wall of the Atrium. The man at the head of the group turned his followers in Corin’s direction.

            “What’s all the fuss about, Hank?” Corin asked as the black-suited man jogged up to him. Though 40ish, he was only slightly out of breath when he stopped before the younger man.

            “Did a boy come through here, Corin?” Hank asked seriously, giving Corin a stern look.

            “Yeah, a couple minutes ago,” Corin told him. “Nearly knocked me down. He new or something?”

            “Yeah, fresh out of the market,” Hank replied. “We have to find him before he gets hurt.” He eyed Corin closely. “Now which way did he go?”

            Corin jerked his head down the corridor. “Didn’t even stop to look around. He must be pretty scared.”

            Hank was already sending his men in the direction Corin had indicated. “Well, we’ll be careful with him,” he promised. “Thank you, Corin.”

            “No problem,” Corin assured the security chief, who had almost disappeared already. When Corin was sure the hallway was clear, he entered the Atrium and looked around for the boy. There was a rustling to his left, then the slender figure emerged from behind a banana tree.

            “Thanks,” he said, a bit sheepishly.

            “No problem,” Corin repeated, this time with a slight smile. “There’s still no way out, though.”

            The boy shrugged his thin shoulders. “Yeah, I guess I know that,” he admitted. “But I had to give it a try.”

            Corin nodded in sympathy. “Come on,” he said, and the boy joined him on the cobblestone path. Corin began to wander through the warm, moist room, shrugging his sweater off as he did so. “Corin,” he added, holding out his hand.

            “Alfie,” the boy replied, smiling as he shook the offered hand. They wandered in silence for a long moment, with only the sounds of falling water and rustling leaves surrounding them, until Alfie finally asked, “What’ll they do? When they catch me?”

            “Hank—he’s the security chief—he’s a good man,” Corin assured him. “They won’t hurt you.” Alfie seemed unconvinced. “I tried a lot of stuff, worse than just running, when I was younger. You can take my word for it, it doesn’t work.” His voice grew the tiniest bit bitter. “They always catch you. But Hank’s hardly ever yelled at me, even when I deserved it.”

            Alfie sniffed a bit and nodded hopelessly, kicking at a pebble as they shuffled along. Corin glanced at him surreptitiously, taking in his torn, dirty clothes and stringy hair. “You from the market?” he asked casually.

            Alfie looked at him sharply, then sighed. “Yeah,” he admitted.

            “Me, too,” Corin told him, and Alfie looked appropriately surprised.

            “You don’t look it,” he blurted out, and Corin smiled.

            “Well, I’ve been here a while. More than five years.”

            “Is it nice here?” Alfie asked after a moment.

            “Better than the market,” Corin told him. “You’re warm, clean, and fed here, and that’s better than the market any day.”

            “Are the people nice?” Corin knew he didn’t mean the servants or the other employees, like Hank.

            “Yeah, for the most part,” he decided. “About average, I suppose. But we’re only for family and guests—not the public.”

            Alfie seemed relieved but skeptical. “How can they afford all this,” he asked, staring around at the exotic trees and brilliant flowers, “without a public part?”

            “They’re traders,” Corin replied as they neared a small pond. “The Captain brings all these plants back—along with fortunes—from all over the world, it seems. But he likes his home to belong to him, and no one else.” Corin sat on a wooden bench before the pond, and Alfie joined him. “He calls it his sanctuary.”

            “Are there a lot of others here?”

            Corin nodded. “About two dozen. Some of those are retired, though. The family lets them stay on, do other things.”

            Alfie swallowed hard and stared at the brightly-colored fish in the pond. “That sounds nice.”

            “I’ve been in a lot worse places,” Corin told him seriously. He glanced up and caught several dark figures slipping down an adjacent path. Alfie saw them too and tried to leap to his feet, but Corin took his arm. “Don’t try to run anymore,” he suggested. “They’ll use their stunguns on you, and those really hurt.”

            The boy nodded reluctantly and forced himself to sit back down as Hank stepped into the clearing. “Now, don’t be scared, boy,” he told Alfie calmly. “Just come on and stand up.”

            Corin nudged him gently and Alfie stood, quietly allowing one of the security agents to put wristcuffs on him. “There’s no need to worry,” Hank assured him, though Corin suspected his words had little effect on the boy. “We’re just going down to the Wellness Center to make sure you’re okay.”

            Alfie said nothing, but he cast a mournful glance back at Corin as he was led away through the shrubbery. Hank stayed behind. “You’d better come down to the Wellness Center, too, sometime, and get some shots,” he told Corin. The younger man nodded, still watching the spot where he could last see Alfie. Hank touched his shoulder gently. “Thanks, Corin.”

            “Be careful with him,” Corin advised, and the security chief nodded.

            “Don’t worry.” Then he followed his men out, leaving Corin alone in the Atrium.

 

**

 

            Corin smiled at the pretty young nurse from his pallet in the Wellness Center, and she smiled back flirtatiously as she bandaged the small group of puncture wounds on his upper arm. Corin liked to be friendly, especially to people who carried needles, and both knew it could never go farther than a smile anyway. He wasn’t exactly free to choose—not from people at the nurse’s level, anyway.

            “All done,” she announced, and he sat up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. “That didn’t hurt too much, did it?”

            “Not at all,” he assured her. She started to turn away but he stopped her with a question. “There’s a new boy who was brought in a couple hours ago—do you know where he went?”

            “He’s in an isolation unit—number two, over there,” she replied, nodding at a doorway.

            “Thanks.” Carefully pulling his sweater on over his aching arm, Corin wandered through the doorway to the part of the Wellness Center dedicated to preventing the spread of outside diseases. There were six isolation units around the walls, tiny rooms with transparent walls and complicated ventilation systems that would make sure boys like Alfie wouldn’t spread any of the diseases they’d picked up in the markets while they were being cured of them. Corin stopped at the front of the second unit; behind the blue-tinged wall he could see Alfie curled up on the cot, dressed in a sickly green uniform that was certainly much cleaner than his original clothes had been. Thinking he was asleep, Corin was about to leave, but the boy caught sight of him.

            “Wait!” he called, his voice oddly warped by the speaker system. He rolled off the cot and approached the wall. “Don’t go.”

            “Okay,” Corin agreed with a smile.

            They stood there in silence for a moment, Alfie awkward, Corin relaxed. “How long will you be in there?” Corin finally asked.

            Alfie shrugged his thin shoulders. “A week, I think. At least.” He glanced around the small bluish chamber. “It’s really clean. It’s nice. And I’ve had a proper bath, too.” He stopped, suddenly embarrassed. Corin probably had a bath every week.

            “I’ve spent a few weeks in these,” Corin told him, sensing the boy’s shyness reappear.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah. When I first got here, of course, and they put you back in if you ever get sick, so you can’t spread it.”

            “I’ll be in here all the time, then,” Alfie decided gloomily. Even now he was sniffling a bit.

            “You’ll be surprised how healthy you are when you’re taken good care of,” Corin assured him. “Anyway, the isolation units are nice and quiet. And you’ve got all the doctors and nurses around if you need anything.”

            “Yeah, I guess so.”

            “Gets a bit boring, though,” Corin admitted. “Can you read?”

            The boy looked up hopefully. “Yeah, a bit.”

            “There’s a nice library here. Can I bring you something?”

            Alfie’s smile lit his small, pale face. “Yeah! Anything. But, I guess—“ He hesitated. Corin looked at him questioningly. “I never read anything except for the street mixes.”

            Corin grinned. “Startail? Buck Tangy? Or are you a Hazel Apparition fan?” Alfie stared in amazement. “I guess those are probably pretty ancient by now,” Corin conceded. “But they have a few subscriptions at the Library. Would you like some?”

            “I’d love some!”

            Corin smiled, pleased at how much better the boy looked when he was happy. “Alright then, I’ll bring you some. I’ll back in a few hours. Are you warm enough?” He frowned suddenly, remembering his own times in the isolation unit.

            Alfie was momentarily thrown by the sudden change in topic. “What? Oh, yeah.” He looked back at the cot. “Yeah, I’ve got a couple of blankets.”

            “Good,” Corin said casually. “It can get a bit chilly. Anyway, I’ll let you rest. I’ll be back in a while, alright?”

            Alfie nodded happily. “Alright. Thanks, Corin.”

            Corin nodded his dark head and turned away reluctantly with a parting smile. Almost immediately he saw that the boy had gone back to bed; he was probably exhausted. Corin decided he would let him be for a while. That would give him time to finish—

            There was a buzzing in Corin’s back pocket and he discarded his leisurely plans. Pulling a small black pager out, he squinted at the screen’s text under the fluorescent lights of the Wellness Center. “BEDROOM,” it read. No need to wonder whose.

            Corin walked purposefully down the long grey corridor that led out of the Quarters—she would know how long it took to reach her room from his, so there was no need to rush. Twice he had to scan his thumbprint to pass through security doors, and at the third and final exit was a pair of bored-looking guards.

            “Hey, Nigel,” Corin nodded as he swiped the pager to prove it had been activated. “Kip. Who’d you guys tick off to get door duty?”

            “It’s our reward,” Nigel responded sarcastically.

            “For service above and beyond the call of duty,” Kip grunted from behind his magazine.

            “Oh yeah?” Corin replied, bemused, as he pressed a panel with his thumb.

            Nigel twisted a little in his chair behind the desk and poked a cast-covered foot out where Corin could see. “Got that yesterday, chasing those punks out of the east garden. Tried to scale that stupid stone wall.”

            “Ain’t the wall so much what’s stupid, as what tried to go over it,” Kip deadpanned without looking up.

            Corin was appropriately impressed. “I heard there was some fuss yesterday, but I didn’t know it was you guys,” he said. “You catch ‘em?”

            “Nah,” Nigel admitted with disgust. “Kip winged one with a pellet, though. Oughta teach ‘im a thing or two.”

            “Doubt it,” Kip countered. “Lit up like a Sun Tree. Probably doesn’t even remember it by now.”

            Corin smirked and went through the electronic doors. “You two try to stay out of trouble for a while, right?”

            As soon as he stepped away from the doors they closed back into a tight seal—but from this side they appeared to be richly-carved wood that matched the expensive decor in the rest of the narrow hallway. There was thick green carpet under Corin’s feet instead of cold grey metal, delicate vases on iron tables lined the walls, and family ancestors stared disapprovingly down on him from portraits. Finally he reached the back door to his mistress’s apartments, knocked, and let himself in.

            She was reclining on the chaise lounge in the sitting room when he wandered in through the marble archway, and she immediately scrambled up on her knees when she saw him. “Took you long enough!” she chided, then immediately forgot her irritation. “What do you think of my new dress?” Briony perched precariously on the bouncy lounge, showing off the sunny yellow, frou-frou confection. “Lettice says it’s all the latest in the Capital, but I just don’t know.”

            Corin glanced over at Briony’s severely-dressed housekeeper, Lettice, who had no doubt worked hard to make her mistress’s new costume. “I think you look beautiful,” he told her simply, lifting her down to a safer position on the floor.

            Briony beamed at him. “Oh, Corin, you’d say that no matter what,” she teased him, pulling him closer. “Thank you, Lettice,” she continued dismissively, but Lettice had had her position for many years and was already slipping out the door.

            Briony yanked Corin closer by the waist of his trousers and leaned up to kiss him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in _ages_!” she complained, sliding her hands under his sweater.

            “It’s just hormones,” he told her teasingly, carefully undoing the clasps at the back of her dress. “I was just here last night.”

            Abruptly she pulled away and turned her back on him. “Well, if you’re going to tease me, you can just go,” she suggested, but he knew she wasn’t serious.

            “Oh, mistress,” he replied pleadingly, kneeling on the chaise lounge, “you wouldn’t send me away _now_ , would you? Not when I’ve been thinking about you all the way here...”

            “Well...” she wavered. “Okay.” With a giggle Briony whirled back to him. “Mind the dress, though!” she added as he pulled her into his arms.


End file.
